


Angelic Afterlives, Big Gay Crushes, and Mystery Date - Or How Sam Winchester Learned That Violence Isn't Always the Answer

by PensiveManiac



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Because I bloody well said so, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, as i think of them, only Cas and Dean are at the bunker together, or figure them out, set in season 9 ish, with Cas as an angel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:01:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1852243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PensiveManiac/pseuds/PensiveManiac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam just had a simple, valid question. Where do angels go when they die? He had no idea the question would lead to Dean and Cas finally talking about certain elephants in the room, or a late night visit from a dead frenemy, or it being his turn to smite someone. Well, these are the things we go through when you ask too many questions. Sometimes, Sam really hated his life. This isn't about those times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which An Innocent Question Causes Less Than Innocent Thoughts

“Hey, Cas, can I ask you something?” Sam had grown closer with Castiel lately and he wasn’t as scared of asking questions or just generally talking to the angel as he used to be. But suddenly he sounded, well, scared. Like he used to sound when Cas was the scary man in the trench coat threatening to send his brother back to Hell and conspiring with the other dick angels. Cas wasn’t sure what put that fear in his voice, but he didn’t like it.  
“Of course, Sam. Though as you already have asked me that, to clarify I should say you may ask something else as well.” Cas was better than this. Dean had taught him enough about how to speak like a human... he shouldn’t still be making mistakes like that.   
“Where do angels go when they die?” Sam asked, his voice a whisper. “I mean when people die they go to Heaven or Hell, when monsters die they go to Purgatory. Where do angels go? Do they just stop existing? Or is there somewhere special for angel... souls?”  
Castiel, semi-former-semi-fallen-kind-of-still-angel of the Lord froze. This was not a question he had expected having to answer. Suddenly Cas was all too aware that Dean was in the room listening to this conversation avidly, trying to feign his disinterest by burying his nose in a book of Sumerian summonings. Dean didn’t read Sumerian. If he could help it, Dean didn’t read. Cas sighed. “Do you remember when you two first met Anna?”  
“Yeah, but she didn’t die then. She fell. She ripped her own grace out and became human,” Sam recounted, then he looked up suddenly. “Wait, if Anna fell without her grace and was born human, why were you still an adult when you fell? And she didn’t have her memories but you did...”  
Cas smiled bitterly. “Because I fell, but was kept alive. Metatron had plans for me, and those plans required me to live. That’s why I’m still in this form instead of being born as a regular screaming newborn. I didn’t die when I fell, but Anna did. You can’t survive falling from Heaven as a human without help. Anna had no one. So she died. At least that’s what I think happened. You have to understand that Death is supposed to be the great mystery.   
“None of us are supposed to know what comes next. Having a pretty good idea is fine, having faith is great, but it’s not supposed to be a known destination. That goes for us as well as you humans. Now, before you two came along and decided that death should be a revolving door instead of a one way trip, it was simpler. There were a few people that the Son raised, a few his followers raised, a few the pagan gods woke back up, a few that science brought back, and so on, and so on. But most of them forgot what they saw when they were dead, or the force responsible wiped their memories.” Cas suddenly grinned, fierce and proud, “I understand Gabriel made it a hobby back in the first century to mess with the resurrected until they had no idea whether what they saw in the afterlife was real or one of his tricks. But, anyway, the point is that we, meaning we angels, aren’t supposed to know any more than you humans are supposed to know what comes next for you.”  
“But you think that what happened to Anna is what happens to all angels? They get reborn as humans?” Sam was staring at Cas with the strangest look on his face. His eyes filled with hope but also tears, as though something he really wished for had been granted in the worst way possible. “So all those angels who died because of Lucifer, they’re like five years old now?”  
“If my theory is correct, then, yes. They would be young children. I have a further theory that some children who seem to be old souls, or who show a talent or tendency for more spiritual pursuits, are in fact angels reborn.” There was silence as Sam took in what Cas was saying. “But try to remember, Sam, they don’t remember who they were. They are merely mortal now. No more or less than anyone else.”  
Dean gave up pretending he wasn’t listening. “So if you die, I mean really die... you won’t remember us? You won’t remember me at all? You’ll just be some little kid with those annoyingly blue eyes and a weird staring problem?” It had been awhile since Dean had sounded so petulant, almost whiny.   
Cas smiled. “If it helps, Dean, I doubt you’ll remember me when you’re in your Heaven with Sam and your mother. And I’m also not entirely sure that it’s possible to forget the Winchesters. I have an abiding feeling that you are indelibly engrained in the memories of every supernatural creature you have ever met. If we suddenly start having young children running from you in fear, we’ll know for sure, but for now I have to assume that yes, I will probably forget you.” Cas paused for a moment, considering. “Then again, seeing as I have been made human now, there seems to be a possibility, however slim that I will end up in either Hell or Heaven. I don’t know. And that’s the point. None of us are supposed to.”  
Sam was staring at the books lining the walls of the bunker. His eyes were glassed over with tears that he was visibly refusing to shed in front of his brother. “I bet he’s a little hell raiser,” he sighed, “I mean he was always a pain in our ass, I guess some mom or dad or both is getting to experience it first hand. He’s gotta love Halloween. All that candy. All those tricks. All that mischief. It must be trickster christmas.”  
Dean and Cas looked at each other in a mixture of confusion and dawning horror. “Gabriel! Gabriel! You were asking Cas about what the angel ramp on the stairway to heaven would be for him? Why? That asshole killed me. A lot. And he tortured you. A lot. Herpexia, Sam. Herpexia.”  
Sam laughed, “Yeah, he did, Dean. He picked us. Did that ever occur to you? That the Messenger of Heaven, the original Trickster, Loki Lie-Smith, took the time to target two shmucks who happened to be in the wrong place and the right time? That he kept coming back to mess with us over and over again trying to get us to learn lessons that we desperately needed to learn? That if it weren’t for his help, we’d have lost everything. That I’d never have stopped trying to get you back and Cas wouldn’t have been able to free you. The apocalypse averted, Dad freed from Hell, Lucifer and Michael in the Cage. All of it was because of Gabriel. I know that he made us go through hell, literally in some ways, but he always did what he thought was best. And let’s face it, even with Heat of the Moment and Herpexia, his methods were a lot more gentle than some we’ve seen.”  
“Just so you know, ‘He’s not as much an ass as Lucifer’ is not high praise.” Dean snorted. “Seriously, why are you going all misty-eyed over that winged douche? Wasn’t what he put us through enough? I mean, ok, you might have a point about the whole, there’s worse, thing, but still. Man, it’s not like he was our bff or something. He was the trickster.”  
“And I loved him.” Sam said it so quickly and quietly that Dean wasn’t sure he heard it at first. Then he met Cas’s eyes and saw that he definitely heard it. And Cas’s eyes were saying something else. Maybe Sam wasn’t the only one with an angel on their shoulder. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. I did. But somewhere, at some point, I don’t know. I guess I just realized how stupid it all was. That everyone and their angel was trying to make us live our lives the way they wanted, Zachariah and Michael and Lucifer and Meg and Crowley and even you, Cas, all trying to get us to be what we were supposed to be. To be the antichrist and the sword of God, to be the rebels overthrowing the evil empire, to be something other than Sam and Dean. And I realized that even when he told us to play our parts, even after all that TV Land bullshit he put us through.. he never once told us to change. He told us to fake it. To learn. To figure out that things weren’t as simple as they used to be. Do you have any idea how many times since then those lessons have saved all our lives? Seriously, think about it. He saved us all. And he died for it. And until five minutes ago I had no idea if he was even still in existence or not. I had to know. I’m sorry, Dean.” And with that, with that outpouring of emotion and the first tear falling, Sam left. He quickly and calmly rose from the table and without another word left the library to go to his own room. Dean heard the door close as he stared off into space. Then he turned to Cas.  
“Can you believe this? My little brother... in love with the fucking trickster. He couldn’t have his big gay crush on some other angel? Maybe Alfie or... okay, yeah, that’s it. You and Alfie are the only two angels I can think of who aren’t dicks.” Dean grumbled, increasingly confused as Cas’s eyebrows knitted.  
“I’m not sure I understand. Are you saying it would preferable or not for Sam to have his ‘big gay crush’ as you call it on me?” Cas frowned. “Also, you are aware that we are not actually male or female, right? We are beyond gender.”  
“I understand that you stand to piss and that’s enough for me. And no, Sam picking you might actually have been worse than this.” Dean’s voice faded away to the barest whisper under his breath, “not that I’d be able to blame him if he did.”  
“And why not, Dean?”  
“What? You didn’t hear that. Seriously, man, you can’t just go around hearing things like that. It’s not fair. I mean seriously, no. You just didn’t hear it. I’m saying so.” Dean actually stamped his foot, as though that made this madness more valid in some way.  
“I think it’s a fair question, Dean. Why wouldn’t you be able to blame your brother if he were... ‘crushing’ on me is how I believe you'd phrase it.” When it seemed like no answer would be forthcoming Cas sighed and rose. “If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. I’ll be in my room.”  
Dean grabbed his arm. “No, stop, wait.” He sighed hard. “Ok, you want to know? You really want to know?”  
“That is what I usually mean when I ask you something, Dean.”   
“Fine. You’re mine. You’re my big gay angel crush. So how could I blame Sam for seeing what I see. But for the love of your Dad, please tell me that you aren't into Sam. I cannot handle seeing you and Sam.” Castiel laughed.  
“I still think it’s amusing when you say that. You know, most of the time, humans don’t think before they say something. They say ‘Oh, God’ when they mean ‘that feels good’ or ‘that’s bad, help me.’ You think about it, don’t you?” Dean actually blushed, trying to cover it with a glare in Cas’s direction, but instead just looking like a schoolboy caught in a lie. “You think about the fact that you’re talking about my Father and it changes how you say things. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I’ve had a few years now to learn how to speak Dean Winchester and let me tell you, you’re not as hard to read as Cuneiform.” Dean looked even more annoyed as Cas literally laughed in his face. “Let me translate for you. You are my big gay human crush.” Cas carefully let his eyes move slowly over Dean, from his apple green eyes down his toned torso all the way to the toes of his combat boots. He then leered and leaned into Dean’s space as he’d seen Dean do to so many barflies and waitresses over the years. “So, babe, we both know where this is going, what do you say we get out of here and see what happens?” He asked, his voice a near perfect imitation of Dean’s own barroom growl. With Castiel’s timbre it sounded more like a purr.   
Dean laughed suddenly, and still smiling he took Castiel’s hand. “I understood that reference,” he intoned, mimicking Cas’s deadpan tone, “Now, let’s see what all you learned from the pizza man.”  
They were almost at Dean’s room when an alarm began to chirp. It was the closest thing the bunker had to a doorbell, and it only went off on the extremely rare occasions when someone other than Team Free Will came to the bunker’s entrance. With Charlie in Oz and the Trans reunited (in a way), Dean had no idea who could possibly be at their door.   
Cursing whoever this was that had the worst timing imaginable, he forced an apologetic smile at Cas. “I can’t make Sam get it, not with him being all weepy over trickster-boy. I’ll be right back. Don’t start without me.”  
“I don’t think there’s much risk of that, Dean, but I think perhaps I should come with you. if you don’t know who it is, it could be a threat. Let me back you up.” Cas smiled, pride with having a joke ready evident in every line of his face. “Then you can back me up... if you know what I mean.” He actually winked twice.   
Laughing, Dean led the way to the door. Castiel might be the biggest dork on the planet, but he was sure as hell going to be Dean’s dork. He checked the camera feed that showed anyone standing at the door but the figure was too close to the actually doorway for their face to show up. Not liking this very much, but confident that he had an angelic warrior guarding his back, Dean opened the door.   
“Look, I don’t know where you were looking for, buddy, but you picked the wrong place to-” Dean fell silent as he looked into a face he had never expected to see again. Fucking figures. How did that old expression go? Speak of the devil, the devil appears? Well, guess it works for asshole archangels too. He really should know better by now. Of course it would be-  
“Gabriel?” Sam’s voice cracked behind Cas. Fuck. Of course he would come to answer the door. “How the hell? What the...? How!?” Sam’s face, going from shock to disbelief to pure rage was fascinating to watch and going off Gabriel’s expression, it was apparently obvious even to people who hadn’t grown up with Sam Winchester’s Bitch Face (patent pending) that this was going to be one for the books.   
“What, Gigantor, you didn’t miss me?” Gabriel smiled up at Sam, obviously trying very hard not to show fear. Dean could relate, but could have told the poor bastard that moose can smell fear. If, of course, he hadn’t known Sam’s response would be at least a month of hell in the bunker.   
This was going to be a long night.


	2. In Which Melodramatic Answers Lead To Dramatic Actions

“Hey, that’s not fair, Samsquatch, it’s just not.” Gabriel still looked afraid, but anger was starting to take over. This conversation was not going the way he had wanted it to, but what did he expect? A Winchester taking a good thing and being happy over it? Of course not. That would be too damn easy for the guys who decided they’d overwrite the plans of God, the Devil, and Dad knew who else.  
“And why isn’t it fair to ask why it took 5 years for you to tell me that Lucifer hadn’t killed you after all? You had no problem whatsoever snapping your way into our lives before. You created entire worlds, or at least sets, whatever. You’re telling me you couldn’t find a phone? Or pop in to annoy us? Or, I don’t know, pray to Cas for him to tell us?” Sam was pissed. In fact, Gabe wondered how much further past pissed the man had gone. Based on the borrowed angel blade in his hands, very... but hey, he hadn’t used it yet. A sudden glint in Sam’s eyes when Gabe smiled at the thought made him mentally repeat the word yet very loudly.  
“I told you, I couldn’t. I... wasn’t myself.”  
“And who the hell were you? I mean you've got the same vessel, you’ve got enough juice to find the bunker, and you’ve got the balls to show up at my door in the middle of the night... exactly why couldn’t you come sooner?” Sam’s voice cracked a little then, just a slight hint on the word “sooner” that Gabe couldn’t mistake for anything but heartbreak.  
“Actually, I don’t, Sam. This isn’t the same vessel. I’m not entirely sure it is a vessel.” Gabe sighed as he looked seriously in Sam’s eyes, praying for the first time in what felt like centuries. Dad, I know you aren’t involved much anymore, but please... let him listen. Let him hear me. “I was Ricky Aligheri. I was born again, no jokes please, I’ve thought of them all, on May first, 2010. I had just turned four when you saved my life.”  
“Wait, what? I haven’t seen you since the Elysian Fields, unless you count the Casa Erotica video...”  
“No, Sam, you don’t get it. I died then. I have my mojo back now, so I know that Cassie’s been telling you all of Dad’s dirty little secrets about what happens to angels that are... ‘ganked’ I believe is what your brother likes to call it? Anyway, we die. We’re born as humans. Like Anna. I never liked that girl, too serious. Like Cassie was before you boys got your mitts on him.”  
“Gabe, I know it’s hard for you, but try very hard to stay on topic before I loose what little sanity you’ve left me with.” Sam gritted his teeth and looked rather close to starting pulling Gabe’s. “Please,” he managed to growl.  
“Ok, ok, man, you really need to calm down.” Gabe took one look at Sam before barreling forward, “Sorry, ok, so I got born back as a human brat with no recollection of my time as Gabriel, none. I was just little Ricky whose parents believed that refined sugar was created by Satan specifically to ruin the smiles of children. Then, one day as I’m out with mom and dad having a rare treat of ice cream for my fourth birthday when this bad man comes out of nowhere and starts hurting my mom. His eyes were solid black and I was scared, so I hugged my daddy, and then, right when I was really starting to cry, this long haired giant shows up, stabs the bad man and talks to my dad. Do you remember what you said?”  
“Oh my god... I asked if he and his son were ok. I told them the cops were coming but that I was FBI and they wouldn’t want me messing with their business. I flashed my badge and ran away. But that kid couldn’t have been you. He was a little kid. And you’re not. Very, very not a little kid.” Sam was staring at Gabriel’s adult and familiar form as his breathing grew faster and faster. Then he froze and looked at Gabriel with confusion, suspicion and judgement in glinting in his eyes, “In fact, the kid looked nothing like you. He was a ginger with freckles and he was still packing his baby fat. But then you can change how you look, can’t you. Like you did at the diner during that nightmare at the Mystery Spot.”  
Gabe sighed. The one time he’s not running a con on the kid and now he gets skeptical. Story of his life. “If your Imperial Samness will let me finish, I was getting to that. What you saw was Ricky, me, but human and, again for those in the cheap seats, an innocent four year old. But when I saw you something broke. I mean I was still Ricky, I still thought like a kid and I still had the capacity for thought of a kid, and I still remembered my mom making me chicken soup when I was sick and my dad taking me to the park. But suddenly I remembered you, pinning a grown up me to a wall and threatening me with a sharp stick. I remembered seeing a monster with a messed up face, but who I loved, just like I loved Mommy and Daddy, holding a sword that glowed and shone. I saw that monster, I saw Luci, and I saw him kill me. I knew it was fake, like a game of pretend, but I saw him stab the body that I knew was only an illusion just as he turned and stabbed me for real. I remembered dying, Sam. I remembered what it felt like as Lucifer’s warped grace burned every last drop of Gabriel away and I felt my wings burn to shadow and ash and I swear I heard you shout my name. Gabriel.” Gabriel wasn’t crying. Archangels don’t cry. They don’t. But somewhere, deep, deep inside him, Ricky Aligheri cried. And Gabe couldn’t see Sam through Ricky’s tears.  
Silence fell as Sam watched the trickster who killed Dean with a grin, the angel who had challenged Lucifer the Morning Star to battle, the man who he had grown to love and respect just in time for him to be taken from him, sob. That wasn’t fair, it was closer to weeping. He watched the tears spill and heard Gabriel make small, helpless sounds in the back of his throat that he tried to stifle and failed. He reached out, put one hand on Gabriel’s arm and with the other took a box of tissues that they kept around for Dean’s Game of Thrones/Classic Movie nights with Cas and put them on the table in front of Gabriel. He didn’t hand him a tissue, nor did he even pull one out of the box.  
“After everything happened, after the Pit, after being soulless, after everything, I ended up in a hospital for awhile. The kind you go to when it’s your mind and not your body that gets broken. They told me that you never give someone who’s crying a tissue. You make sure they’re where they can reach them themselves, but you never give one to someone who’s crying. It makes them feel like they shouldn’t be allowed to cry.” Sam sighed. “And if anyone should be allowed to, it’s you. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought,” Sam trailed off. He cleared his throat and tried again. “After all the times I thought I’d killed you, that Dean and I had finished you off, I figured it had to be a con. Some grand trick that Lucifer fell for. That you were in the Winged Protection Service or just hiding out as some pagan god with some cultists somewhere feeding you grapes. Sometimes I pictured you watching all of us mess up in Heaven, cursing loudly and creatively and wishing you were there to change things. But you didn’t want to break cover. You didn’t want to let Lucifer, or Naomi, or Bartholomew, or Crowley or whoever we were up against this week to know you were still alive. So you hid.” He looked at Gabriel, and for the first time since he’d opened the door he let himself touch the angel. He very lightly gripped Gabe’s chin and tilted his head up so they looked eye to blurry eye. Sam knew that a few tears were in his own eyes now, but he’d be damned again if he shed one more tear over what Lucifer did.  
“I’m sorry, Gabe, I am. I thought the worst.”  
Gabriel actually laughed, “In all fairness, you weren’t far off. That was kind of plan A, before Luci got me for real. I would have let you know, but I would have been in deep cover by the time you found out. But it didn’t work out that way.”  
“Can I ask..?” When Gabriel nodded, Sam continued, “How are you... you? You said you got your mojo back but you stopped the story at you getting your memories back after you saw me. What happened next?”  
Gabe took a deep breath, drew a tissue and dotted his eyes dramatically. Blowing his nose, he snapped the tissue away as soon as he was done. “So, there I am, stuck in the body and the physical brain of a four year old, with these memories of you and Dean-o and Luci and my own death. I freaked out. I started crying and screaming and lost it. I wish I could say that I was cool and calm and turned into some four year old James Bond or Jason Bourne, but no, I flipped shit. My dad had no idea what was happening, thought it was a reaction to my mom being killed in front of me, and in fairness it was like fifteen minutes later that I really started going nuts, so it’s not that surprising. Then I start rambling on about how Lucifer killed me, I mean I guess I used his name, but I mostly think I called him the bad man. And how the giant needed me. And how my little brother was in so much trouble and that Dad was going to kill everyone if he ever found out. Except I didn’t have a little brother, Ricky was an only child. And Ricky’s dad was trying to hold his son while said son screamed bloody murder in the middle of a hospital.”  
Sam and Gabe were both smiling softly at the image, Gabe remembering the chaos and general bedlam that breaks out when a child is screaming about child abuse and murder in an ER while Sam imagined the scene with the grown Gabriel shouting these things and gesturing wildly like a madman.  
“Anyway, apparently Cassie’s been busy while I was away? Something about angels falling? Well regardless of how and why, turns out there are angels out there who want to use what power they have left to help people. And some of them do so in Emergency Rooms. His name had been Kerubiel when I knew him, but now he’s just Jake, who works as a nurse. He heard this little kid saying Lucifer this and Castiel that and figured something was going on. I remember him saying something about toys and therapeutic play to my dad who, I guess, nodded since he took me away. I’ll never forget when his eyes flashed and he asked me, with the thunder in his voice, who I was. I didn’t realize until his jaw dropped that I had answered, ‘Gabriel.’  
“If you think you’ve seen an angel panic wait until they’re face to face with what they think is an archangel known for his tricks who they’d been trying to intimidate. Then factor in the fact that I was still a kid, I mean I’m a four year old, three feet tall with bright red hair, and this grown man is looking at me like I just stole his lunch money. I must have said something like, ‘He needs me, he needs my help’ because suddenly Jake the Nurse is kneeling in front of me like I’m some lost prince and asking me what he could do to aid the last archangel.”  
Gabe leaned in then, his eyes now dry, his voice having steadied. He tilted his head towards Sam and for an instant Sam could see the sparkling eyes of the trickster again, then he grew serious once more. Smiling, Sam leaned in as well, so they were inches apart over the table between them. “I’m going to tell you the truth, Sammy-me-boy, I don’t know how much of the next bit really happened. I know what I felt and what I heard but I don’t know what was real. More than anyone I know how deceitful and mysterious Heaven can be,” they shared a laugh at that before Gabe continued, “But I swear, for an instant I heard Dad’s voice. My real Father speaking to me for the first time in millennia. ‘Do you love him?’ He asked. Ricky didn’t know who he was talking about, but inside, Gabriel did. And I answered him with the confidence and faith I once used to tell Mary to expect a bundle of joy, and said, ‘Yes, Father, I do.’”  
Gabriel was staring in Sam’s eyes, gauging his every response to each word he spoke so he saw the exact instant that awe filled the eyes of Sam Winchester. For an instant it was like years of struggles and pain were wiped away and Gabriel saw the faith return to the jaded hunter. He saw hope blossom in those ridiculous color-shifting eyes as he recounted his answer. He saw the wistful smile on Sam’s lips as he shared about hearing the voice of God. “I should have known, and I might have if I’d had all of my memories, but He’s always been big on people who sacrifice themselves for love. He did it Himself once, or so they say. I’m not Him, of course, so I couldn’t save humanity, but I saved you. And in that moment, as I answered my Father for the first time since I spoke to Muhammed, I remembered that my death had saved you from Lucifer, at least for a while, and I didn’t regret it in the least. Then He spoke again. ‘Do you want to help him again?’  
“‘If he needs me again, then yes.’ That’s all. No spells or tablets or fancy language, just a single heartfelt sentence. And I was me again. I looked like this, I remembered everything and I could feel my wings as a steady presence against my back again. I may be the only angel with wings in the entire world right now. Cassie’s going to kill me if he figures that out. Not that I’m worried, he’ll be back to his old self soon.”  
Sam’s jaw had actually dropped. Gabriel, Loki, the original practical joker, had tried to get a reaction from Sam a time or two and he had never gotten a response like that before. He laughed for a moment as Sam slowly pulled the tattered remnants of his dignity around himself before speaking. After three false starts, two throat clearings and literally wiping his brow, he finally managed to get a sentence out.  
“So... God Himself brought you back to full archangel level power for... me? Why? And what the hell do you mean Cas’ll be back to his old self soon?”  
“First off, don’t be so false-modest. You stopped the apocalypse from happening. You prevented a False God from stealing worship from the Most High and in the process redeemed a fallen angel. You defeated the Leviathan. You almost slammed the gates of Heaven, but stopped not for fear of failure or fear of death, but love. You set the King of Hell on the path of redemption. You resisted the lures of Lucifer himself and instead restored in him some tiny measure of the brotherly love which he had scorned in the first place. You did all that, Sam, you and Dean-o, and Dean’s got his reward still coming. And, having done all of that, and so much more, you still fight on. You still battle Abaddon and Crowley, still risk your life, your sanity and your soul, all of which you’ve sacrificed before. You do this daily.”  
Gabe took a breath, and smiling even further at the look on Sam’s face, he continued. “I know you think He wasn’t listening. I know you think He failed you and all of us. But you have to understand how these things work. He never once did anything in the entire history of Creation that would hinder free will. It’s the only thing He ever came up with that He loves as much as you humans. He works through humans, giving knowledge, power and occasional miraculous back up when necessary. There’s other stuff out there that you don’t get yet because you’re mortal. It’s clearer without those limitations to blind you. But what matters is that He never had to roll his sleeves up because He had it covered. He had you and your bonehead brother to mess up the plans of those who would hurt people and ruin His Creation. Try to remember that He didn’t set off the apocalypse, that was Zachariah and the other idiots that decided they could run the show.  
“He never even left you without guidance. You always had Chuck or Cas or me or someone, even if it was Charlie or a random hunt you’d run across guiding you every step of the way. But it was your choices and Dean’s that led us here. It was your choices that saved the world, your actions that saved my life the second time, and your love that brought me back. In the week since I got it all back, I’ve been looking for you. I got tiny hints here and there, but for the most part I just knew that you were still alive and still making trouble for all the right people. It wasn’t until I heard you say you loved me that I knew where to find you. It wasn’t until you told Cas and Dean how you felt that I was led here.  
“I told you, Sam, I came as soon as I could. I was waiting for you.”  
Sam opened his mouth to respond, to tell Gabe he was wrong, that Sam had never been the noble one or the pure one or the right one. That he was the boy with the demon blood, the antichrist, the True Vessel of Lucifer. But he couldn’t get the words out. Instead, the man who’d challenged Heaven, Hell and all between simply reached out, dragged the archangel from his chair and kissed him.  
The bunker didn’t shake. There were no fireworks or shooting stars. No harp music or power chords or Mormon Tabernacle Choir filled the air. Just two men kissing as though they had forgotten how to breath and the other was oxygen.  
But it was enough.  
For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is more forthcoming, not sure if it'll be an epilogue or if the story will continue or if we'll get to see Destiel's response to this Sabriel drama. Who knows. I didn't see Gabriel getting this expressive before it happened, but hey, he's the Messenger. As always, comments/kudos are love and make me smile.


End file.
